He’s breaking me.
Chipping away at my self-esteem.
Asserting his control.
“Clocks ticking, Lucy,” he says as he taps his wrist-watch to show me that I am on some sort of countdown.
I do as he asks, and I beg.
Whiny and pathetic.
He laughs.
I cry.
And when I think that he can’t humiliate me anymore, he tells me that my effort is weak, and he climbs into bed, promptly falling asleep. Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I sob silently.
I hate him, and I disgust myself.
Chapter Fourteen
I need you
“Lucy… Lucy, baby… Wake up…”
My eyes flutter open, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the window.
“Hey.” Michael’s voice is soft as he sits on the edge of the bed.
I feel dazed as I feel him reach across my body. Every urge within me wants to push him away, but when I hear the click of the handcuffs opening, I refrain from doing anything. One wrong move from me and he might decide to leave the fucking things on.
Michael gently removes the cuffs from around my wrists, so gentle it’s like he thinks that I might break, and I begin to cry. The pain as I try to move my arms is searing. Burning, aching pain.
I let my emotions overwhelm me as I sob for my plight. Michael tries to soothe me by telling me that it’s all okay as he rubs my wrists tenderly. I feel no relief. I feel nothing at all. He has brought me to a dark place, one that I am scared I will never escape from.
“I brought you some breakfast,” he says as he gestures to the bedside table where there is a plate of buttered toast and a mug of coffee.
Breakfast? He expects me to feel hungry after the night that I have just had?
I’m even more convinced that he is insane. At least there would be a reason for his fucked-up behaviour.
I don’t want to speak to him, my skin crawling as he massages my arm.
“I thought that we could go out today, maybe go for a spot of lunch?” His feeble attempt at trying to put right what he has done wrong. I remain silent, afraid that if I speak then I will really tell him what I think, and that would only cause me more trouble.
“Look, Lucy,” he starts and gives a resigned sigh. “I shouldn’t have behaved the way that I did. I just get so panicked that you are going to abandon me.” His words are ones that I have heard numerous times before. He may as well play them on a fucking loop. They’re hollow, meaningless.
“I’ve been such a jerk, and I am truly sorry. I just… I love you so much.” Blah, blah, blah. I switch off as he continues to prattle on about how he can’t live without me, etcetera, etcetera.
I wonder if there are other women that he has done this to?
I wonder if I am the first woman that he has kept prisoner?
A tingling starts to make its way down my arm as life pours back into it. I want to whimper from the sensation, but I know better than that. He would only enjoy my suffering despite his apologies.
“I need you, Lucy.”
And that’s the problem. He thinks that he needs me to survive. He can’t see past his insecurities to realise that needing someone doesn’t mean you have to control them. It shouldn’t even come down to need, it should be about wanting someone, loving them and having them love you back without torturing them so that they are too scared to walk away.
